


Shout it from the rooftops

by deathorthetoypiano



Category: Holby City
Genre: F/F, Fluff, New Year's Eve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-14 01:01:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9149842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathorthetoypiano/pseuds/deathorthetoypiano
Summary: Bernie plans a surprise for New Year's Eve.





	

“So what are we doing for New Year?”  Bernie drops the pen she's holding, blushes and bites her lip, trying to cover it up, but Serena notices, leaning against the desk at the nurses’ station with her eyebrow raised.  “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Bernie.”

Bernie looks up at her briefly, toys with a strand of her hair, and smiles, just a little.  “You said we.”

“And?”  Serena frowns.  In fact, she looks at Bernie like she has quite possibly just arrived from a different planet.

“It’s just,” Bernie leans back in her chair, trying to articulate the joy that bubbles inside of her, searching for the words and finding none, shrugs.  “I like it.”  And nothing, not even her omnipresent fear of fucking up, could dampen the feeling of Serena looking at her like that, that glorious blend of ‘you’re an idiot’ and ‘I love you’, just for a moment, before the red phone rings.

*

“You didn’t answer me.”  Bernie, holding two differently coloured sheets of paper in one hand and trying to work out where the third had gone, doesn’t look up, just hums a greeting as she flicks through a pile of assorted paper with her left hand.  “I’m sure this would be easier if you used a better filing system,” Serena remarks drily, leaning across to pluck the elusive form from a stack to Bernie’s right.

“Shut up.”  She takes it, slips it into the file, and checks something off a list.  “Answer you about what?”

“New Year.”

“Oh.  Well, I have an idea.”  Bernie closes the file with a snap, stands, presses a kiss to Serena’s cheek, and leaves the office with a bounce.

*

“So,” Serena purrs into her ear, setting a glass down in front of her, “what is it?”

Bernie takes a sip and hums appreciatively. “What is what?”

“Your brilliant idea.” 

 “Ah, I never said it was brilliant.”  Bernie winks at her over her glass.  “Do you hate surprises?”

Serena considers this for a moment.  “Not entirely,” she decides.

“Then a surprise it shall be.  My place.  Bring Jason if he doesn’t already have plans.”  She tries, and fails, not to laugh at the look on Serena’s face, then determinedly changes the subject.

*

Serena spends the rest of the week trying to trick her into giving it away, especially when she discovers that Bernie has told Jason and sworn him to secrecy.  Wherever they are - in theatre, in their office, on the ward, in the supermarket, in bed – she tries to trip her up, to ask questions so casually that she might just get some information. 

But one thing that Bernie Wolfe is really good at is keeping secrets.

*

She tucks the phone against her shoulder and wedges the crate against the wall, not wanting to pick it up more than once, as she reassures Serena that she would rather pick her up than worry about finding another parking space, that she doesn’t need to bring anything, that everything is in hand.  “I’ll be round at 8.  Give you time to get home and do whatever you need to. ”  

Out on the roof, she pushes the crate into the corner by the top of the stairs: blankets, champagne, Jason’s favourite soft drink, two battery-operated lamps, sparklers and matches, the other thing.  She has already worked out the best spot, and she is pleased with herself.  No rain is forecast, the wind is light, it’s not too cold.  It is going to be perfect.

*

“Bernie, your flat is much nicer than Auntie Serena said it was!” 

Serena blushes, squirms as Bernie turns to her with an eyebrow raised.  But she can’t keep it up for long, laughs and kisses her, laughs even more as Serena’s arms slide round her neck, making Jason groan in protest and disappear into the lounge, kisses her harder now they no longer have an audience.

It doesn’t last long.

“Auntie Serena, come and look at the view.  You like views.”

They pull apart, their foreheads resting together.  “I’m a little, uh, busy at the moment, Jason,” Serena replies, her voice shaking as Bernie’s fingertips trace her collarbone.  Jason says nothing.  Bernie imagines the look on his face, and Serena must, too, for she sighs.  “Hold on.”

Bernie goes into the kitchen, opens wine, puts the oven on, potters about.  She can’t hear what they’re saying without listening hard, but the rise and fall of their voices, the bursts of laughter, the pauses, are so comforting that her eyes fill with tears, her throat grows tight, her stomach twists.  She closes her eyes and takes three deep breaths before opening them again, calm and out of danger of crying.  For now, at least.  

Moments later, Serena appears.  She wraps her arms around Bernie from behind and presses her into the cupboards, kissing her shoulder, her neck, her jaw.  One hand slides up from her hips to her waist, slipping inside her blouse and tracing shapes on her skin, while the other turns Bernie’s chin towards her so she can kiss her properly.  Then, laughing, she pulls away, taking the bottle of wine as she goes.  “Are you okay?” she asks, pausing in her search for glasses to frown at her.

Bernie looks up, and smiles.  “Yes, yes, I’m –” she opens the cupboard in front of her to produce glasses, “I’m just really happy.”

*

Between pizza and board games and terrible telly and losing time just staring at Serena, it very nearly all goes to pot.  They’re cheerfully discussing the Hootenanny when Jason stands up.  “Bernie, it’s quarter to twelve.”

Bernie yelps.  “Thankyou Jason, I’m glad you noticed.  Shoes on!”  Serena twists in her arms to look questioningly at her, but she just shakes her head, kisses her on the cheek and pats her thigh before getting to her feet.

Serena follows, frowning, as they lead her into the hallway and up the stairs, out the door and onto the roof.  She accepts a blanket, wrapping it around herself as she watches Jason light lamps and Bernie open the champagne, laughing together at what she presumes is the coming together of their plan.  As Bernie directs her to a particular spot and turns to face her, they can hear people starting to count down to midnight.

“Serena,”

(9)

“I love you”

(8)

“and I want”

(7)

“to spend”

(6)

“the rest of my”

(5)

“life with you.”

(4)

(3)

“Will you”

(2)

“marry me?”

(1)

She isn’t prepared for the force of Serena throwing herself into her arms, staggers a little but recovers before really stumbling.  The fireworks are so loud around them that it takes her a moment to realise that, between kisses, Serena is saying something.  “I’m sorry, I can’t hear you,” she teases.

She isn’t prepared, either, for what comes next, but Jason is, so it’s on film for all to see that Serena really does shout from a rooftop, “yes, Berenice bloody Wolfe, I will marry you!”


End file.
